Posted: September 3, 2009
As we approach another what looks to be painful year of Oakland Raider professional football, I feel that I must purge myself of the pain that can be be incurred when you love something and you forget why.
I know why I love the Raiders, when I was little kid I was drawn to the colors(long before I had even seen California, let alone made my bones in Oakland) the Silver and Black. No two better colors exist(yeah, yeah I know blacks not a color, tell that to Louis Farrahkan or the KKK) fucking period. When you mix that with the logo and the renegades that made up the Oakland Raiders of the 1970’s you have an easy identity for a 9 year old lover of KISS,Alice Cooper, and the smell of gasoline. When my path eventually landed me in Oakland in the mid 80’s the Raiders were long gone but the power remained in the city. My vagabond lifestyle made it so I completely missed the 2 Super Bowl victories in LA, it seemed like a good time to get back in the boat, as they were down in the dumps and I never liked a front runner. Through the rest of the 80’s and early 90’s the mystique never failed me and on there return to Oakland I was right there with the rest of the diehards that had been in the trenches, on the streets , in the jails and prisons(you haven’t lived until you are booked into San Diego Co. Jail in head to toe Raider gear on the day the Raiders are playing the Chargers, been there and fucking done that) welcoming them home to the claim the crown of the scourge of the Bay Area that was and is Oakland.
We had a moment when things seemed to be breaking our way, we had a great team, a leader in John Gruden and a sense of destiny surrounded our team and our town. Within the course of 3 years we were the victims of the most bullshit and fixed call since “the immaculate reception” , thank you New England(hows Darryl Stingley doing?), the loss of our great coach due to yet another power move by our totally fucking wakka doo owner(a whole ‘nother post in and of itself), and a loss against the worst possible opponent in a Super Bowl that we could have ever dreamed of, would have one against anyone else.
Since that day we have fallen to point of death. Wearing my Jack Tatum jersey is like walking through a firestorm of laughter and degradation… but then I am reminded when I see these pictures of truth that this isn’t about wether you win or lose its about how you play the fucking game and we as Oakland Raider Fans(short for fanatic) show up with our game on every goddamn day. Silver and Black still pumps through my veins, ’til death do us part.